


Giving Up

by scribblw



Category: Youtube Gaming, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Bisexual Character, Eating Disorders, Fluff and Angst, Gay ships, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, I'm honestly not even trying to make this realistic, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Markiplier - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Rating May Change, Reader Discretion is Advised, Self-Harm, Septiplier - Freeform, Suicidal Thoughts, Very angst, YouTube, YouTube gaming - Freeform, jacksepticeye - Freeform, septiplier fluff, this is not my best work but it's something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 10:26:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16116503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblw/pseuds/scribblw
Summary: Jack is dealing with the fallout of a friendship he'd relied on, and nothing seems worth it anymore.Mark can only hope to make ammends.





	1. Alone

_"Why don't you just call me Sean?"_

He had to shake some of his thoughts out of his head to ground himself, but there were some that Sean could never quite get rid of. They were conversations, mostly -conversations that Sean kept revisiting, questioning, trying to find something that he might have missed or that he shouldn't have said. This would all be easier if he could keep his mouth shut.

_Just keep it to yourself. No one cares._

The logical part of him knew that he shouldn't be beating himself up, but he still thought that it was all true. He couldn't even keep himself together like a normal person; why would anyone care about him? He had friends, but they would get tired of him if he told them eveeything that went on with him. Those were his own problems, and he didn't need to burden or bore anyone else with them. No one cared.

He was just fucking everything up. There was nothing he could do but keep himself from looking even more like an idiot. He could just keep to himself and accept the fact that his personality had already pushed everyone away.

_The water is getting cold. I should move. Or just stay here._

It was tempting to just stay in the bath and rot, but those thoughts were a little dramatic. Besides, someone had already called the police once when Sean stopped uploading or responding to anyone for a few days, just in time for them to "save" him the last time his thoughts got a little dramatic.

_Quit being an asshole._

Getting up made his head spin, and Sean knew that he had fucked up again by staying in the hot bath for too long. He almost felt too weak to stand up and too dizzy to get his clothes on, but he had stopped feeling hungry a long time ago. All he felt was misery, and a twisted relief of feeling _something._

The doctor had told him a while ago (weeks? Months?) to keep weighing himself, to make sure he wasn't losing anymore weight, but Sean already knew what he would see if he stepped on the scale. After he had gotten close to the limit he'd been set, he stopped bothering to check, telling himself that he couldn't be sure if he had lost too much or not. He was fine. He just wasn't hungry. And this way, he was free of the responsibility.

It wasn't his fault if his body or his heart just gave out. That wasn't technically killing himself.

_You're such a coward._

He should just get it over with. Only there was one last scrap of hope in him that was fighting to see the light. It was hard to make himself believe that it existed, but he kept holding out just in case something good might happen. It had kept him clinging on for months, for years, continuously losing its influence as Sean struggled to see anything to live for. Lately, he just hadn't cared anymore. He had tried once just to end it, and now he didn't care if he lived or died. He didn't have the energy to fight anymore.

_Just fucking eat something,_ he thought when he had left the bathroom despite barely being able to trust his own feet.

But what was the point? There was no one there to care anymore. Jack had given up on even drinking water the past few days, because he didn't think he needed it. He could barely think at all, besides, except to relive conversations and feelings that he just wanted to forget.

_"Why don't you call me Sean? Even Wade does sometimes."_

He couldn't believe how bad he had let himself get, but he could only briefly care.

The couch was as far as he could get before he had to let himself collapse. His throat was stinging with bile and his stomach felt like it was turning inside out, but there was nothing for him to vomit up anymore. There was no reason to shove his fingers down his throat when he wasn't feeling well to rid of the acid that was building up.

He didn't want to get up and chew a handful of tums to get his insides to settle, he just wanted to go to sleep. And when he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, going to sleep was exactly what he did.


	2. We're Not As Strong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like it says in the tags, there's definately some disturbing material, to do with depression, suicidal thoughts, and eating disorders, mostly based on personal experience (just not the relationhship stuff lol.) Please be sure that you're safe reading this. If so, you'll just have to wait and see if there's a happy ending. ;)
> 
> You may also notice that I like to use a lot of italics. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

There was a desparation in Mark that kept him right beside the hospital bed as much as was possible. He used the bathroom in the little room to shower and to brush his teeth when he absolutely needed to, the hospital's room service was available to bring him any food he needed, and there was a cushion in the window sill where he slept if he bothered to get out of the little chair he spent most of his time in.

The sleep deprivation was getting to him, but he couldn't stand to take his eyes off of the sleeping figure on that bed.

 _Not just sleeping,_ his head reminded him, but he knew that all too well.

The shock of Sean's condition still hadn't worn off, but it was too apparent for Mark to try and fight against accepting it. There was barely anything of him, and Mark couldn't stop the terrifying feeling that if he turned his head, Sean would completely waste away. It was horrifying. It was beyond horrifying to realize the severity of the situation. And he had only just found out that this wasn't the first time his friend was in urgent care in the last two months.

_How did this happen?_

He knew exactly how. He had to remind himself that he hadn't been a friend at all, and he didn't deserve to be surprised at what Sean had been going through. He should have known. He should have been there, and he should have known. It was Mark's own fault that this had happened because he had left Jack completely alone. Sean. He'd left Sean alone.

The vigilance that he kept over Sean's bedside suddenly came to fruition when Mark saw Sean's blue eyes finally open. He was instantly filled with doubt, though, because he knew that he was the last person that Sean would want to see. It broke his heart. He couldn't believe the amount of relief he felt just from seeing Sean's eyes, but it all broke down when those eyes immediately filled with tears.

"No."

Sean's unused voice came out as a croak, but Mark could see his hurt even without hearing it.

"Don't talk, let me get the nurse," he said, fumbling for the call button while his other hand fumbled to comfort a person he knew he didn't deserve to touch.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Sean cried, "It's supposed to be over."

Mark pushed the button and let the room's alarm ring for help, still helpless himself to do anything in that moment for his best friend.

"I'm sorry, Sean, I'm sorry. It's gonna be okay now; you're okay," he did his best to be soothing, but Sean continued to cry, now struggling against the tubes that were connecting him to several I.V drips and threatening to hurt himself in his frustration.

"Just let it be over! Fuck, why can't it be over?"

Mark was crying by this point as well, and the nurse had finally arrived and was attempting to hold Sean still while Mark stood up to get out of the way. He left the room and walked in a near daze to the hall, pulling out his phone to contact Sean's mother and let her know that her son was awake.

It had been Sean's family that had gotten in touch with him, his brother Tom, in fact, who Mark had met once when he came with Jack to L.A. Mark had heard two words and was already looking for a flight; he'd arrived at the hospital the next day to be told in full detail what boiled down to a few simple facts: Sean was severely malnutritioned and dehydrated, he was in a coma, and he might not wake up. He'd been found by his brother in his apartment and was suspected to have already been in critical condition for hours, if not a full day. He was doing this to hinself voluntarily. He had already been in the hospital recently after a suicide attempt involving prescription meds, and Tom had been checking in on him every few days, but Sean hasn't answered his phone.

It was hard to believe it was real, seeing the most lively and the loudest person on youtube looking half-dead in a hospital room. It was hard to imagine him starvi- hurting himself like this, and not telling anyone. Not telling _Mark,_ but why should he? What had Mark done to make Jack think he would even care? Of course he cared, _of course_ he cared, and the fact that he had let Jack think he didn't was the most unbelievable thing of all.

When he realized where his feet had been taking him, Mark was coming up on the hotel he'd booked a room at and hadn't spent a single night in though he'd had it reserved for a week. He made his way up three flights of stairs, not bothering to take the elevator, and pushed his key card into the slot.

There was a suitcase full of luggage next to the queen sized bed, and Mark realized that he had left the smaller bag of clothes he'd been living out of at the hospital. Oh well, he would be back soon anyways. He had to go back, he just needed some space. And a shower.

He woke up to his phone ringing and found Sean's ex-girlfriend on the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

"Mark. I just wanted to let you know that Sean is asleep again- jus' sleepin'. He was weak when he woke up and it didn't take much to put him back down, t'at's what the nurse is saying."

"Okay."

There was a pause.

"He asked if you were here. I know it's hard, Merk, but I wanted to thank you fer bein' here fer him and let you know that he knows. Whether you come back or not-"

Signe hesitated to continue, and Mark rubbed at his eyes.

"I'll be right over. He doesn't- I'm sure he doesn't want me there, but I have to be. I just needed to breathe."

"He does care about you. I don' know what happened between you, but ye've got to fix it. Ye're right; you have to."

"I will."


	3. So Keep Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is toootally self indulgent and it's not at all the kind of thing I usually like to write, so there's that. I would never want to pry into these guys' relationships, and it makes me feel bad that they've been exposed to shippers who would. They're amazing, and fans should never shove a ship into someone's face and make them uncomfortable. I kind of write them as my own characters and it makes me happy to write fanfiction but I realize that they're also people and that this stuff has zero truth to it and isn't meant to. Hope you like the story tho, byeeeee.

Everything was sore when Sean woke up again. He took in the beeping of his heart monitor and the bright white lights -the multiple tubes pumping fluids into his veins- and he was filled with overwhelming hopelessness. He didn't want to be awake; he hadn't wanted to wake up. It was all a blur but he remembered when he was finally able to give up, in his apartment, and he had been at peace. Now he'd been wrenched back into a reality that he hadn't wanted.

_Mark?_

He remembered seeing Mark at his bed. He'd thought he was really dead, or dying, and his mind was playing tricks on him, but then he'd realized he was in a hospital room and that he'd been forced to keep living, again. But was Mark really there? Why would he be? Why would he have been looking at Sean with such concern, as if he wouldn't only be there hoping that Sean was dead.

"Fuck it..."

"Sean!"

He turned to see his mother sitting at his bed, eyes full of tears, and his useless heart broke.

"Ma?"

"Don't speak, ye need to drink some water."

She reached for a water cup that had a straw in it and was sitting at his bedside as well, and Sean didn't fight it when she had him take a drink. He saw that she was crying even as he sipped at it, feeling the water soothe his throat, which felt like sandpaper.

Then the door to his room opened and his siblings came rushing in to see him as his ma kept them from crowding too much around the bed. Sean was still in a bit of a daze, feeling overwhelmed, continuously thinking that his family wasn't supposed to have to do this for him. This wasn't what he wanted; he just wanted not to be a burden anymore. But he said,

"I'm sorry" when his brothers and sister cried, and he hugged them even though his head was hurting badly enough to split open.

Finally, a nurse came into the room and ushered everyone out, but not before Tom got a word in after the others had left.

"Signe is here fer you, Sean. She's been waitin' in the hallway if you want ta' see her."

"Okay."

There was more, but Tom bit his lip for a second before saying it, and Sean felt his guts knot.

"Mark is here too."


	4. Don't Stay (Away)

"I don't want ta' see 'im."

Mark was there. He _had_ been there the first time Sean woke up, but why? How long had Sean been in the hospital? Why was Mark even in Ireland?

"Tha's fine, Sean, but he wants ta talk ta you. He's been here the whole time fer ya, just as we've been."

"He doesn' want ta see me."

"He came fer you."

Sean shook his head and pressed his hands to his eyes, fighting tears. His head was going to explode.

"Why?! Why would he come?"

"Jus' talk to him, will ye? Give him a chance. He seems ta care about ya."

"Fine."

_He doesn't care. He's probably here to say not to bother 'im wit' yer shite. He probably wants to tell ya that he couldn't give a shit if you died._

"Sean."

_What are you doing here?_

Mark couldn't help the stab of worry in his gut when Sean didn't respond, but he reassured himself by watching Sean's abdomen move as he breathed and hearing the steady beep of the heart monitor. He stepped closer to the bed slowly, not wanting Sean to get upset like he had the first time he'd woken up.

"Sean, I'm so sorry."

Jack opened his eyes to look at Mark, and Mark stopped moving.

"What are yeh doin' here?" he asked, closing his eyes again and letting his head roll back on the pillow.

Mark stayed where he was, a few steps from the side of the bed, and tried to gather his feelings into something coherent, but he didn't even know where to start.

"I was worried about you."

Sean scoffed.

"Sean, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like I didn't care about you."

"You don't have to do this jus' because I almost died, Merk. You don't have to pretend to give a fuck about me jus' because you feel guilty."

 _Fuck it,_ Mark thought, walking straight to the side of the bed and grabbing Sean's arm to get his attention.

"I do fucking care, okay. I know that what I did was fucked up, but I don't want to lose you. I didn't realize that you were- Fuck, why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't I know, Sean?"

There were tears streaming down Sean's face, and he couldn't be bothered to stop them.

"You weren' there."

"I know. I know, Sean, oh god. I can't _lose_ you; I can't let you do this. Me, your parents, your siblings, Signe."

It hurt him to get her name out, but she had done more for Sean than he ever had.

"We're all here for you. We care about you."

"Then why? Why would you say that you didn't want to talk to me? Why haven't Bob or Wade or Tyler or Ethan even spoken to me? Why're you acting like you hate me? You said you didn't want- Yeh said it didn't bother you teh be friends."

"I do want to be friends. Sean, you're my _best_ friend. I know I haven't been acting like it, but that's because I thought it would be worse for you if you knew how I felt about you. We both had our own problems, and I didn't think it was healthy to try and start anything, even if I wanted to. And nobody hated you, okay, they were pissed off at me. They just didn't know what to say to you because I was being a dick to you. I was a total asshole, I just didn't know how to help you. I didn't want to end up hurting you, and I fucked it up anyways."

Sean sniffed and tried to wipe his running nose with the back of his hand, but his movement was limited by the I.Vs in his arm.

"You are an asshole," he said.

"I know. I know."

"What about Amy? I thought you didn't want me fuckin' things up fer the two of yeh. When I told you how I felt about you."

"Amy and I broke up six months ago. I thought I would fuck things up with you like I did with her, and I was right. I never wanted to hurt you. I can't stand that I hurt you."

"It's not you're fault, Mark," Sean said, and he continued before Mark could argue, gesturing to the hospital room.

"This isn't yer fault. You're right, we both had our own problems before any of that happened."

"Oh, Sean."

Mark let himself lean over Sean on the bed, resting his forehead on the sheets on the other side of him.

"Don't you see what you're doing to yourself?"

"I don't care anymore," Sean said, but he was starting to doubt himself.

"I can care enough for both of us. Trust me. Let me care enough for both of us."

Sean finally returned the contact that Mark was initiating, grabbing onto Mark's shirt wherever he could reach it as the pain he was feeling poured out of him in racking sobs.


	5. If Together Keeps Us Safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm not trying to glorify anything to do with mental illness, it's just, unfortunately, what I relate to. Getting help is very important and mental illness is the opposite of romantic.

Being in a facility wasn't something that Sean had ever thought he could do. This kind of place was from horror games and urban legends, and Sean knew that they were legitimate in real life, but he still had lingering anxieties about it. He didn't want to be crazy. It was hard for him to admit that he needed any help at all, and then let himself be _admitted,_ but he hadn't exactly been given a choice.

His family and friends had all but staged an intervention in his hospital room, and it was easier to accept once he was stable, and he could actually think.

"Sean, you have a phone call."

And there was that.

One of the nurses handed him a cell phone, and Sean was answering before he had even thanked her.

"Merk?"

"Hey, Sean. How are you doing?"

He groaned dramatically, walking out to the balcony to get away from everyone for a minute.

"You know how I'm doin'. This place fuckin' sucks and I wanna get out of here. D'ya know they're not lettin' me have any coffee? T'ey call it a privilege! T'at's my dog-given right!"

"Sean."

There was a smile in his voice -a warmth- that gave Jack chills.

"You sound like you're doing better."

"Guess so," he grumbled, "'M eatin' anyway, and that's all they care about here."

"That's good, babe."

The treatment Sean was in was different than anything he would have imagined. He was with just 7 other adults in a two story house in California, for one. Everything worked like a hyper vigilant but functional household, for two. All Jack had to do was go to therapy and finish his meals, while being supervised 24/7.

"I miss ye."

Mark sighed.

"I miss you too, babe. You know that I'm visiting on Friday."

"I know."

"And we can go out this time. We can see a movie if you want."

"Really?"

"Yeah, of course we can."

Sean's phone time was up, and he was holding onto the cell phone tighter, not wanting to let go of his time with Mark.

_I love you._

Nothing had technically happened between them, though Mark was casually calling him "babe" and the like, making Sean's chest go funny. And not in a malnourished heart palpitation kind of way.

"See you soon, Sean."

"See ya soon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all. :3 (Yes, I meant to say dog-given right. Sounds like something Jack would say.)


End file.
